


Copying the Clouds

by asphyxeno



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Fatherhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 03:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21331642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphyxeno/pseuds/asphyxeno
Summary: It may have seemed ridiculous to think so, but Shikamaru often wondered if perhaps the weather reflected their moods.Or perhaps their feelings were merely copying the clouds.
Kudos: 19





	Copying the Clouds

It may have seemed ridiculous to think so, but Shikamaru often wondered if perhaps the weather reflected their moods. Or perhaps their feelings were merely copying the clouds. Whichever the case may have been, the thick clouds, dark and heavy with threatening rain, definitely weighed down his thoughts.

He looked up at them from the roof of Konoha’s administrative building, directly above the Hokage’s office. Despite their gloomy nature, he still enjoyed watching them as they inched ever so slowly across the sky.

A cigarette hung from Shikamaru’s lips, already half gone without him ever taking a single drag from it. Sometimes, on days like this that reminded him of the weather so many years ago, he would light one to try and remember what his sensei’s voice had sounded like, or his father’s. Sometimes, he didn’t think he could. The lit smoke that curled from the cigarette offered him a small, silent comfort, and Shikamaru couldn’t help but wonder if the clouds had such a significant effect on anyone else.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Shikamaru turned his head to see who’d spoken. Naruto had just reached the top of the steps, striding towards him with an expression that somehow managed to be both expressive and dour all at once.

“Taking a break?” Shikamaru asked. He flicked the build-up of ash away and, at last, took a drag from it. The smoky bitterness of tobacco was calming. He lit a second one, putting the first out into a portable ashtray which he kept on his person.

Naruto’s nose wrinkled at the scent, but didn’t say anything about it otherwise. Then his mouth twisted, hesitating as he made up his mind to speak or not. Shikamaru let him take his time, not one to push.

Eventually, Naruto asked, “Do you think I’m a good father?”

Well, there was a loaded question if ever there was one, though Shikamaru could understand why he’d ask. He just wasn’t sure if it was a question he was qualified to answer. “Should you really be asking me this?” he said.

Naruto frowned, dissatisfied with the vague answer. “Shikamaru, you’re the smartest person I know, and my advisor. Who else am I supposed to ask?”

Shikamaru shrugged. “Your kids.”

“I can’t ask them, they’re exactly the problem.” Naruto slumped forward against the banister that surrounded the roof. “Himawari’s not glad I’m working so much, but at least she doesn’t hate me like Boruto does.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“He shouted ‘I hate you, stupid dad,’ in my face.” Naruto pointed at his own face, as if to prove it, and a smile tugged at Shikamaru’s lips. He hid it by wrapping them around the cigarette again, glad for the camouflage it offered.

“He doesn’t mean it.”

“I wish I was as sure as you.” Naruto sighed and rested his chin in his palm, elbow on the metal rail. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

Naruto gestured at all of him, “This. Everything. How do you balance it all?”

“Years of practice.”

“But you’re gone from home as much as I am, if not more considering your clan duties, and Shikadai doesn’t hate you. He respects you, and understands you have an important job leading the village at my side.” Naruto folded his arms and sunk his head into them, slumped pathetically forward in his despair at the difficulties of fatherhood. “Why can’t Boruto see that, too?”

Shikamaru shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve been at this since before Shikadai was born. He’s used to it because it’s always been this way. With you, you’ve only been Hokage for what? A few years?” Naruto huffed, unhappy with the explanation, but unable to dispute it either. Shikamaru pressed on through Naruto’s irritation at facing a problem he couldn’t simply talk or punch his way through. “He was used to you always being there. It’s just unfortunate that your inauguration happened when he was at such a troublesome age that he feels his relationship with you is threatened. Probably why Himawari doesn’t have as big of an issue with it as he does.”

Naruto straightened a bit more, enough to gesture desperately. “See? You understand my own son better than I do. My own parenting can’t compare.”

Shikamaru looked at him quite blankly at that. “I grew up with a father. I had an example set for me. You didn’t. Don’t beat yourself up for something that isn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, but I had Pervy Sage. And Kakashi-sensei. And Iruka-sensei.”

“It’s not the same. You weren’t close with Iruka at first. You lived alone.” It was difficult to explain a concept like parents to someone who’d never had them in the first place. His parents were something Shikamaru had always taken for granted, until they suddenly weren’t there anymore. He tried to put the feeling into words. “It was different with my dad than with Asuma. I’m talking about the daily life of coming home to someone who cared where you were that day, even if he didn’t say anything, it was nice to know he was there.”

Naruto scrunched his face up again, unsure without a frame of reference in his own past. “I guess you’re right...” he sighed. He’d come seeking advice, after all. “So what am I supposed to do then? I’m not about to quit being Hokage.”

Shikamaru chuckled at that. “After everything you and I have done to make it happen, I’d be pissed if you did.” Shikamaru watched him as Naruto resumed the thoughtful pout he’d been wearing when he’d first approached. “It might help to think of it from his perspective,” he proffered. “Think back to when you were his age. During your time with Jiraiya, did you ever have any times where you just wanted him to spend time with you?”

“Yeah, a bunch. He rarely ever did though. Too busy with his ‘research,’ the pervert.” Naruto had no qualms speaking ill of the dead when it was merely stating the truth.

“And how did you feel when it happened?”

Naruto went quiet then. He was clearly considering feelings he’d avoided confronting when he’d been younger. Shikamaru knew that Naruto had been lonely, and he knew that more than anyone, Naruto could understand the feeling of desperation for attention. He didn’t press him further, mindfully taking another drag from his cigarette.

Then he pushed past the somber topic before he got caught up in it, too. “What about the times he did spend with you? Remember anything specific? Any experiences you might want to replicate with your kids?”

Naruto recalled several fond memories back when he was young, learning the rasengan. Eating grilled squid together. Jiraiya having a nap while Boruto trained - though he’d gotten drunk, it had still been nice to know he was _there_. And then there was...

“It’s sort of dumb, but… We used to share popsicles?” Naruto offered quietly, a questioning smile on his face. Of all the things he’d been through with Jiraiya, that stuck out the most in his mind, but he wasn’t sure if it would have the same effect on his son, whose interests seemed to only be in the big and grandeur things the world had to offer. Then he hesitated, doubt collecting in his mind at the thought. “Would Boruto even like that?”

It hadn’t been something Shikamaru was expecting, but then this _was_ Naruto. He shrugged. “Sure, why not? Sharing meals is one of my best memories of my sensei, too.” He put a knuckle to his chin in thought, “Come to think of it, I usually only saw my dad at mealtimes or when we’d play shogi. I do the same with Shikadai most days.” Being a family wasn’t always about big momentous occasions. On the contrary, he’d found that it was usually the small ones that had stuck with him the most.

Naruto balked at the idea of playing shogi in his spare time. “And he enjoys it?”

Shikamaru laughed. It had been a struggle to teach Naruto shogi, and he couldn’t imagine Boruto would fare much better with his attention span. “Of course,” he said. “He really is a lot like me, and Boruto is more like you than you might think. Think about the things you enjoy, that you think he might enjoy - _don’t_ say ramen.”

Naruto’s mouth snapped shut before the words left his mouth. Shikamaru knew him too well. “Well, it worked with Hinata,” he sulked, folding his arms. “I’ve never really thought about it before, not since becoming Hokage. We both like training?”

“That could be good, but you need something for inside, when you’re meant to be relaxing.”

“Training _is_ relaxing.”

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. He begged to differ. “I have an idea,” he said, deciding to tackle Naruto’s ideas of fun at a later date. “If you can’t think of anything, why not find out more about what he’s interested in, then try to do whatever it is with him?”

“He’s not really the type to tell me outright. I caught him looking at a movie flyer once but when I asked, he said he wasn’t interested.”

Shikamaru sighed. Boruto could be stubborn like that, he knew. And Naruto wasn’t exactly perceptive, either. “Well, for starters, he likes burgers. _Very_ spicy burgers. For some reason I could _not_ tell you.” He grimaced, remembering the taste of the last limited edition burger he’d taken Boruto and Shikadai out to try, in lieu of Naruto going. “Next time he wants Thunder Burger, I’ll stay at work and you can go. I bet glass is less painful to eat.”

Naruto slumped forward again. “I at least know that much already. He keeps trying to push his tastes on others.”

“I’m not surprised,” Shikamaru muttered. He thought of the many times Naruto convinced others to have ramen with him, simply because it was what he enjoyed. Not so different, after all. “So, food covered, what does Boruto do for fun? Or Himawari, for that matter?”

Naruto looked perplexed, and Shikamaru could almost see the steam coming from his ears as the cogs turned, trying to figure out what motivated his children. “Himawari’s easy enough to satisfy. She’s decisive about what she wants, and is just happy to be with me, whatever we do. Boruto, though… He’s almost embarrassed to even be around me. Like I’m keeping him from something he’d rather be doing.”

“And what would he rather be doing?”

“...I don’t know,” Naruto admitted. “I should know that, right? I’m his dad.”

Shikamaru hummed his approval. “Shikadai said he likes video games.”

“Something I don’t know anything about. Great.”

“As if that’s ever stopped you before. Don’t be a pain, they’re not that hard.” Shikamaru tapped more ashes from his cigarette, the contents nearing the end as the burned away. “Once you got used to the controls, I think you’d like them. At least, the action and fighting genres. They’re too fast-paced for me, but that’s how you take things, isn’t it?”

Naruto blinked at Shikamaru, awed at his knowledge, even on this topic. “How do you know so much about it?”

“Shikadai has shown me a few times, when he gets stuck on certain tactical stages. It’s pretty impressive the kind of simulations you can create on that thing. Perhaps not as all-encompassing as shogi, but the strategies involved in some of them... I can see why the kids like it.”

Naruto merely stared at him, still struggling with the idea of Shikamaru playing any game that wasn’t shogi.

“Anyway,” Shikamaru cleared his throat. He’d been getting off topic. “Ask Boruto to show you, and see for yourself.”

“You think that will work?”

“Can’t hurt to try.” Shikamaru put his cigarette out the same as the first one, satisfied that it’d served its purpose.

Naruto sighed, accepting that the worst that might happen would just be to receive more of the same attitude of rejection from his son he’d been facing. Given the potential reward of spending meaningful time with his son, it was worth the risk. He grumbled, “I thought you were supposed to be the pessimistic one between us.”

“Nah,” Shikamaru smirked. “That’s Sasuke’s job.”

Naruto cracked a smile then, a small one. They didn’t seem to come as often as they used to, especially on days like this, when the weather offered him little reason to look up. He gazed at Hokage Rock, eyes scanning the stone faces of those he’d come to admire and look up to over the years, in lieu of his parents. Kakashi and Tsunade were authority figures for him in their own rights. But Shikamaru had made a good point. Teachers weren’t the same as parents.

He gazed longingly at his own father’s face, etched into the stone, and couldn’t help but wonder how he might have been as a father, if he’d had the chance. Would Minato have balanced his role as a father and Hokage, or would he have struggled, as Naruto was now? There was no way for him to know.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. Naruto turned to find Shikamaru at his side, as he always was, his presence a comforting constant. “You’re doing a fine job,” he said, calm and assuring in his tone. “Both as a father and as Hokage.”

“How do you know?”

Shikamaru’s hand dropped down, tucking it into his pocket. His expression was kind, and he was confident in his words as he spoke them. “Because you care enough to worry about it,” he said simply. “We wouldn’t even be having this conversation otherwise.”

Sunlight filtered down over Hokage Rock, drawing both of their attention as the cracks of light outlined the features of the latter four hokages, Naruto’s visage among them.

“There’s a break in the clouds,” said Naruto, feeling lighter after talking. “I didn’t think we’d get to see the sun today.”

“You know,” said Shikamaru, but he wasn’t looking at the sky. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

It may have seemed ridiculous to think so, but Shikamaru often wondered if perhaps the weather reflected their moods.

Or perhaps their feelings were merely copying the clouds.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this because I'm tired of people saying Naruto is a bad father. He's trying his best okay.


End file.
